Waiting in the Wings

by Melissa Brayden

  I looked to Frank apologetically. He looked ready to spit nails. “I have a multi-million dollar production to shoot here. What the fuck was that?” He took his entire stack of papers and threw them into the air as he stormed away. Okay, so maybe Michelle was right about the temper.

  Dylan stood and consulted his clipboard. “All right people, let’s take a short break. Extras, please don’t go far. We’ll be moving on to scene thirty-nine. Someone get Luke and Michelle into makeup. We’ll revisit this shot later today or tomorrow.”

  I felt guilty. That whole thing could have been handled better, but I allowed a personal hang-up of my own to enter into the situation. I walked back to my trailer and tried to figure out a way to fix it. The idea of stopping at Adrienne’s trailer, which I had to pass on the way to mine, did enter into my head, but I discarded it quickly. Not only did I have no clue what I would say, but I doubted she would give me the opportunity, judging from how angry she looked. Once her temper was unleashed, it usually took a while for her to rein it back in. One thing I did understand, however, was that I’d behaved unprofessionally, and if she had pushed my buttons, I had also pushed hers. It was bad business.

  I hadn’t been in my trailer twenty minutes when a production assistant stopped in and informed me I was needed in the production office. Splendid. I was about to face more music.

  I made the short walk to the production trailer and knocked once before entering. Roberta Long, the associate producer, poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Adrienne, who sat on the couch. Adrienne looked up at me warily and then back at Roberta. To say I felt a bit daunted was an understatement. “Come on in, Jenna. This won’t take long.”

  I took a seat on the other end of the couch and waited expectantly for the reaming I was so sure was coming. Roberta took a seat across from us and leaned back in her chair. “Bottom line, ladies: what happened today on set can never happen again. You cost us time and money and that’s in no way acceptable. Apparently, there’s some history between the two of you and though I’m not clear on the details, I suggest you work it out. Take the rest of the day, but be back here tomorrow, on time, and ready to work together. Are we clear?”

  “We’re clear,” Adrienne said. “Roberta, I’m so sorry. It’s not like me and I’m embarrassed for having behaved the way I did.” She turned to me. “I owe you an apology as well. I’m sorry for blowing up.”

  I nodded. “Me too. I could have helped the situation, but I made it worse. It won’t happen again, Roberta.”

  “Good. I plan to hold you both to that.” She pulled on her suit jacket and walked with us down the steps of the trailer to the street. “Can I suggest the two of you have a conversation? You have tonight off. Go get a drink and find a common ground. Better safe than sorry.” She squeezed my shoulder and headed off in the direction of the set, leaving Adrienne and me alone.

  “You know, maybe we should talk,” she said. “What do you think?”

  While the idea of sitting and discussing a part of my past I’d rather not revisit sounded about as much fun as a root canal, I realized the professional implications of more trouble on set and decided it was probably for the best. “Yeah, okay. A drink later?”

  “There’s a jazz bar uptown where a friend of mine is playing. I promised him I’d stop in sometime this week. It’s pretty low-key, a good place to talk.”

  “All right, eight o’clock?”

  “That’ll work.” She pulled a card from her purse and scribbled the name and address of the club on the back. “I’ll see you tonight.” She handed me the card and walked away, looking about as thrilled as I felt.

  Michelle approached about that time. “Oh my God, I heard there was a knock-down drag-out between you two.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Well, the crew totally is. You guys used to be a…thing?”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “I’ve got to get to set, but you have to fill me in later.”

  “Sure. See ya, Michelle.”

  The studio-provided car drove me back to the hotel where I was staying with the other out of town cast members. It was my home away from, well, other hotels, sadly enough. There was the sublet I had in LA, but that lease was ending soon. I was beginning to feel like a gypsy. I didn’t currently have a real home.

  I watched the streets fly by outside the car window, still so happy to be in the city. Maybe this was where I belonged. I would definitely look into the possibility of staying in New York once we wrapped the film.

  When I arrived back at my room, I was greeted by a rather large arrangement of red and yellow roses sitting on the bedside table. I studied the flowers, knowing for certain they had not been there when I left the room that morning and congratulated myself on my detective skills. I opened the card and smiled. Paige.

  “I miss our nights. Call me when you’re in town.”

  I shook my head and smiled. It was probably best I not call her. I didn’t like getting too tangled up, and anything further with Paige could potentially get complicated. I liked her, genuinely, and didn’t want her to think there was more between us than there was. I realized I was jaded, but I preferred it that way. Life was simpler when matters of the heart were not involved.

  It was seven fifteen and I so did not want to go to this meeting/drinks thing. I threw my orange into the air once and sighed as it returned to my waiting hands. I pushed myself up on the bed so I was propped up on my elbows, and stared at the blank wall. I contemplated cancelling, but I didn’t have Adrienne’s number. Damn it. I dressed quickly, knowing if I was going to go, I didn’t want to be late. Some things never change.

  I selected my faded designer jeans and scoop neck black sweater. I surveyed myself in the mirror, worrying I would be too casual for the club she’d selected and pissed off that I seemed to care. I added my low heel boots to the ensemble and felt somewhat better. Geez, what was wrong with me?

  The cab ride over to the jazz bar was quick enough. The place itself, however, was something else. It was located in the basement of an office building, only a small unassuming sign marking the entrance. The bar was a dimly lit room full of intimate tables, surrounding a small stage. I didn’t see Adrienne right off, so I took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of red.

  The combo band onstage consisted of a piano, bass, drums, and tenor saxophone. The ballad they played was smooth and haunting. I turned around in my chair and watched them play, getting lost in each blistering note. After a while, I felt the presence of someone nearby and turned to find Adrienne standing over my shoulder, also listening to the song. I studied her face. She seemed captivated by the music, so I returned my attention to the stage. As the song concluded, we clapped along with the fifty or so other patrons.

  She looked down at me. “Have you been here long?” I could tell she was doing her best to seem cheerful.

  “No, just the one song.”

  “Why don’t we grab a table? Candace, can you send over a bottle of merlot and an extra glass, please?”

  “Sure thing,” the bartender answered.

  We settled into the booth as the band struck up again, this time playing an up-tempo tune, smooth and mollifying. We listened for a moment and I decided to take the initiative. “So obviously, today wasn’t ideal.”

  “It wasn’t,” she said. “I have to be honest; I take full responsibility for what happened on set. I behaved badly and I’m sorry.”

  “It was a joint effort and I also want to apologize. I should have been more accommodating to what you needed in the scene, and maybe a little nicer with my words.”

  She nodded in silent appreciation and traced the rim of her glass with her forefinger. “I guess if we’re being completely forthright, I was a little on edge. Something about the dialogue in that scene and the awkwardness between us, I don’t know, it got to me.”

  “I know. But it doesn’t have to be awkward, you know. We could just agree it won’t be. I’m the first one to admit
the idea of us working together was a little daunting, but honestly, Adrienne, we’ve always gotten along in the past, our work ethics are similar, and the fact that there was something between us at one point is outside that box.”

  She held up her glass. “Cheers to that.” I reached across the table to meet her glass with mine and offered an encouraging smile.

  “To making this the best film ever.”

  “Agreed.”

  I took a deep swallow from my glass and regarded Adrienne across the table, not quite sure how to proceed with our conversation. “So…how have you been?”

  She laughed at the broad nature of the question, drinking her wine as she thought over the answer. “Life’s been a bit busy lately. I’m not sure if I’m coming or going it seems, but hopefully, I can remedy that after this shoot. I’d like to find a way to ground myself a bit more, stay close to home.”

  “And home is still here in New York?”

  “Definitely. I’m a New Yorker for life, I think. What about you? California still?”

  “I guess so, for no reason other than that’s where I’ve been working. I’m not sure where home is quite yet. Stay tuned.”

  “You’ve accomplished a lot out there, Jenna. It’s impressive. You should be proud of yourself. I guess you made the right move after all.” She said it with the utmost of sincerity, but it still struck a sensitive chord.

  “I don’t look at it in those terms, Adrienne. Nothing’s black or white. I did what I thought was best for everyone with what I knew at the time.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She considered the question. “Would you be upset if I said no?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I think I’d completely understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  We listened to the music for a few minutes, neither of us speaking. The wine began to slowly work its magic and made everything seem a tad easier. I took in the band’s bluesy rendition of “My Funny Valentine,” watching Adrienne pour herself another glass. I followed, killing the bottle. She took a sip and cradled her glass, studying me. “You haven’t changed much, other than the tan, of course.”

  “West coast necessity,” I said. “Jealous?”

  “Nope, but it does look nice on you. Blondes look better with tans, I think. Me? I stick with the pale brunette thing.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Well, you seem to do just fine with it.”

  “I get by.”

  The band took a break and the saxophonist made his way to our table. Adrienne straightened, stood, and embraced him, instantly “on.” She introduced me to Oscar, who immediately slid into the booth next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. “You guys are amazing,” I said. “I could listen to you all night.”

  “Please do, little lady,” he said. “Let’s see if we can get your beautiful friend here to sing a number with us, like the good old days.”

  I looked to Adrienne questioningly.

  “I used to do vocals for Oscar and the guys years ago. Those were great times.” She reached across and squeezed his hand. “You never know. Maybe after another glass or two.” She indicated her wine glass, shaking it side to side.

  “Candace,” Oscar called, “another bottle for these ladies. On me!” We laughed. “Jenna, are you a fan of jazz music?”

  I nodded wholeheartedly. “I am. Growing up, my parents played a lot of Louis Armstrong, but Clifford Brown is by far my favorite.”

  “A Brownie fan, I like it. You’ll have to check out our upcoming album this summer. Your friend here is featured on one of the tracks.” Oscar nodded his head at Adrienne who I regarded in surprise.

  She waved him off. “It’s not a big deal. I stopped by the studio to listen to their session and the next thing I knew, he had me laying down a few vocals.”

  “As if I would have let that opportunity go by,” Oscar said.

  How did I not know about her moonlighting as a jazz singer? Because I didn’t want to, I reminded myself. I watched her across the table and though I still felt a bit off kilter, it also felt strangely good to be with her tonight. Cathartic in a way I wouldn’t have predicted. I drank my wine and reflected on this new turn of events as Oscar whisked Adrienne off to the stage.

  “Ladies and gentleman, we have an extra special treat for you tonight. Making her way to the stage for this next tune is a girl you all love. Star of stage and screen, please put ‘em together for the lovely Adrienne Kenyon.”

  The place went nuts as Adrienne approached the microphone. She was wearing a navy blue dress that accentuated her figure in all the right ways. It was dignified and sexy at the same time. The band played the opening notes of “Someone to Watch Over Me,” and Adrienne began to sing. I was immediately transfixed by her vocals. I hadn’t heard her sing since Clean Slate, and even then the music had been nothing like this. The arrangement was slow and unique and perfect for her voice. She was simply intoxicating as she sang, swaying slightly to the music. She had a subtle way of working the crowd enough to pull them in without overdoing it. I watched the faces of her audience and smiled when I saw how she had them eating out of the palm of her hand. When the song came to a close, the crowd erupted in applause, accompanied by a few boisterous whistles. Adrienne shook a few hands on her way back to the booth. I shook my head, again reminded of what an amazing performer she was.

  “That was nicely done.”

  “Thank you. I felt a little rusty. Come on.” She inclined her head. “Let’s call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

  We grabbed our belongings and settled the tab. As we climbed the steps together, Adrienne spoke. “So is there a chance we’re going to get through this thing?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

  She reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Adrienne.” She turned to go. I watched her walk down the street, her hands in the pockets of her overcoat. I felt not only relieved that the meeting had gone well, but it was genuinely good to talk to her again. Would wonders never cease?

  Chapter Nine

  “Anyone know what time it is?” I asked the group of sound guys buzzing around us.

  “Or what year?” Adrienne countered quietly. “Because I feel like we’ve been here for several.”

  It was the fourth week of shooting and the three of us girls were sitting around a table on a soundstage shooting a lunch scene. Even though it was well into the evening, the lighting guys were capable of amazing things and made it seem as if sunlight was streaming through the faux café windows. We’d been working since six a.m. and, needless to say, we were way past tired. It seemed like there were a few sound details that were holding us up and once again, we were left to wait.

  Michelle sat staring at herself in a spoon she held mere inches from her face. In actuality, she didn’t have to be on set. She’d wrapped for the night on the last take we’d done, leaving just Adrienne and me to finish shooting the end of the scene. “How about you two get this thing right on the first take so we can get out of here? Mama needs a cocktail.”

  I laughed and nodded in wholehearted agreement. I’d found my stride on the film, enjoying the ensemble work and feeling like part of a group. Maybe that was my theater background coming out. The six of us, featured as friends in the movie, formed a rather tight bond off-camera as well. We spent late nights at the hotel bar and even Adrienne, who stayed at her own apartment during the shoot, joined us each night. We were still feeling each other out, but the atmosphere between us had been relaxed.

  “As much as I second that sentiment, I can’t go to the bar tonight, guys,” I said. “I’m seeing my best friend tomorrow for dress shopping. I’ll need copious amounts of sleep for that, I think.”

  “That’s right,” Adrienne chimed in. “The big day is fast approaching. I love that they’re getting married in the Hamptons. They must have some money in that family.”

  I nodded. “They do
. Should be fun though. I’ve never been there.”

  “So no Jenna tonight.” Michelle pouted. “Who am I going to shoot olives at across the table?”

  “Shoot ‘em at Adrienne. She can’t catch them, but she’ll try and that’s somewhat amusing.”

  “I will. I’ll definitely try my very best.”

  “Aww, Adrienne, you’re hereby named my partner in crime tonight,” Michelle said. “And that, my dears, is my exit line. Fingers crossed I see you guys in a few.” She patted Adrienne’s shoulder and exited the café interior.

  I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “Stuck with me again it seems.”

  “I have the worst luck.”

  “Want to have a staring contest?”

  She laughed at the randomness. “No, not really.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Because I’m no longer ten years old? I’d forgotten how much you loved games.”

  I rested my chin in my hand. “I already know I’m whimsical. I don’t need you to point it out.”

  “Well, as long as you’re aware.”

  “Come on. It could be fun. You’ll probably lose, but fun will be had.”

  “Flatterer.”

  I knew appealing to her competitive side would help my cause. “So we’re on?”

  But she didn’t answer because damn it, she was already staring me down, her brow furrowed in the most ridiculous concentrated expression.

  “Stop it. I wasn’t ready.” But I was already laughing, damn it. The long hours we’d already worked had done a number on my ability to keep it together. “I’m not playing if you’re going to cheat.”

  “Yes, you are and you’re losing.”

  I sucked in air and shook off the smile, literally putting my game face on. I wasn’t as competitive as Adrienne, but I had standards. “All right, fine. First one who laughs has to buy drinks for the week.”

  “I hope you saved up.”

  And we were underway. I met her eyes and held them, both of us expressionless for the first few moments of the competition. It soon became apparent to me the very nature of a staring contest left me with very little to do but study the face of my competitor. And I did. Adrienne’s eyelashes, I decided, were very long and had a unique way of catching the light. And her mouth was full and slightly pouty and rather sexy. My stomach did a little twist, which I chose to ignore. I also liked the way the long bangs she sported fell just shy of her left eye. That’s when I noticed her eyes narrow further in concentration and realized this was my shot. Ever so slightly, I poked my tongue out of the side of my mouth, making sure the rest of my face remained blank. The effect was spot on. The lines around Adrienne’s eyes darkened and her mouth turned up a fraction. She was fighting it, I could tell, but it wasn’t long before she gave in to an explosion of laughter, falling over sideways in her chair. “All right, all right. You win. Congratulations.” She held up her hands in surrender.